One Wish
by FlightOrFight
Summary: It wasn't a pull or some kind of energy that pulled him towards that necklace. There wasn't any magic, spark in the air, or an 'it must be mine' thought invading him that compelled him to buy it. Sam just saw it, thought about the similarities it had with the one he had given Dean when they were kids, and bought it. Still. Maybe he shouldn't have tried to clean it. genie!lucifer
1. chapter 1

**One Wish**

 **Chapter 1**

To say that Sam was astounded would be an understatement. A really big one. Though given the fact that it wasn't an everyday thing to see a person appearing from thin air in the middle of his living room while he was just cleaning some piece of jewelry, well, no one should blame him for being a little startled. Especially because, as soon as the man appeared, he knelt with such a frighteningly inhuman elegance on one knee, bowing his head as he called him master.

And then his mind went blank. There was a faint noise in the background, he realized, seemingly unimportant to his soon-to-be panic attack, but it was still there. The man was speaking. Their eyes didn't meet and Sam still wasn't able to hear anything besides the beat of his heart but he now noticed the movement of the other's lips. Sam tried to concentrate but after a couple of seconds he only managed to half hear him. It was really hard for his brain to think anything besides the obvious: A. Man. Just. Appeared. From. Fucking. Nowhere.

He let out a shaky breath.

"Are you unwell, master?" the man asked, his voice and smile were polite but the last word held a resigned tone laced with a barely hidden disgust that made Sam want to twitch in sympathy. The man tilted his head up, his eyes never leaving the same spot on the floor he had looked since he appeared, and Sam got a better look of his clenched teeth. "How long are you going to space out, may I ask?"

Sam would have frowned at the mocking edge of his words that made the curl of his lips somehow sharper, that's it if his brain had still been able to process it.

He glanced slowly at his door, trying to think in some logical answer. Nothing came. He shook his head, trying to clear it so he could think calmly about his situation.

"Never let your eyes wander from the threat until you know it's safe," his mind provided with what suspiciously sounded like Dean's voice.

Sam's eyes returned to the man, to observe him, analyze him. To determine the possible danger he could be. After a quick glance, he couldn't find any cause for alarm. Sam realized that he could easily overpower him – the man was not thin by any means but some of his bones were somewhat visible through pale skin that looked as if it hadn't seen the light of the sun in a long time. His hair was dull and there were slight bags under the eyes he had now catch a glimpse of. He barely looked healthy enough to be standing on his own feet. Or kneeling, as the current case might be. Even so, Sam wasn't going to let that trick him. Even with those physical characteristics, the man emanated a power that made him want to recoil and run away.

One would think the most startling thing would be the clothes – or more like the lack of clothes, because though the only clear sight he had now was the blond hair of the man, he could still see the other wore some kind of weird baggy pants with a red cloth wrapped around his waist – but it wasn't. The bright jewelry adorning his wrists and the gold, leather-looking collar around his neck that were part of the man's scandalous attire didn't weird him out as much as those eyes had done. They struck Sam the most because they were simply terrifying. They hadn't locked eyes yet but there was something in that icy blue gaze that looked ageless— as if there was hidden, dark, gruesome knowledge behind them. Something told him he didn't want to meet those eyes.

The man cocked his head to the side, his lips curling in a falsely polite expression.

"Perhaps you had fallen from your crib as a youngling and now you cannot process information properly? Should I repeat myself more slowly, master?"

Okay, that wasn't very polite.

Sam didn't answer and the man obviously thought Sam had some kind of brain damage. That's the only thing that expression could mean.

"You are the necklace's new owner. That makes you my master." he man chanted tonelessly, in a way that indicated he had said the same words many times before. He then bowed his head once more. His once ageless eyes now looked vacant and subdued. "I'm here to serve you and do as you wish."

Okay, Sam was going to have a panic attack any time now. His palms were already clammy and his lungs were starting to burn with every breath he took. He swallowed thickly and took a deep breath to steady himself, , trying not to show his discomfort. "Is Dean behind this?"

The man's eyebrow rose and— Okay, Sam totally deserved that look. He did just see the man appearing from thin air only a moment ago.

Fuck. Get over that, Winchester. You've got more problems to deal with.

He backed up as far away of the blond as possible. He almost jumped when he felt the end of the couch against his back. He couldn't remember when he had slided so much from his original spot but the cool, soft sensation of the armrest against his back was a clear hint. His hand started to tremble; his mouth was dry and his tongue was heavy. Sam clenched his fists once before standing up, determined to go to the kitchen, never giving his back to the other.

"I need some water," Sam said as a way of explanation, though he didn't know why he was explaining himself to the stranger.

Before he could take a step though, Sam was stopped by the sound of snapping fingers. Suddenly the man was in front of him again, his right knee and left hand touching the floor as he held a weird-looking glass full of water between the fingertips of his free hand.

Sam shut his eyes tightly. "Okay, none of this is real. This is just a dream. I was tired from work and fell asleep on the couch. Yes, that's what happened. I haven't slept well in days, that's the problem. When I open my eyes there won't be a man in my living room. I'll be alone and go back to dream normally."

There was a faint sound of fluttering papers before silence followed. Hoping he was truly alone after a couple of seconds without any incident had passed, Sam slowly opened his eyes. There were bright spots in his vision from shutting his eyes so tightly but after blinking twice, he could see everything normally once more.

There was no mysterious stranger in front of him.

Sam sighed in relief, running fingers through his hair as he collapsed on the couch. He was alone in the room. It had been a hallucination.

Well, that suited him just fine. As if he didn't need more stress in his life.

Once relaxed, he glanced at the spot on the floor where the necklace had fallen from his fingertips. He frowned at it cautiously but didn't move to grab it, just concentrated in steadying his beating heart.

\- x -

That night he couldn't sleep. He went to the small room he had started calling his office and continued doing the work he still had to finish, though not before grabbing a fork to move the necklace from the floor to the small jewelry box that Jess never took from his apartment after moving out.

He didn't know how much time had passed but the room was quiet, the tick-tock of the clock on the wall the only background he had had for hours. His eyes were already burning from reading the same paper three times. It was in Spanish and even though he was good at it, he was better with Latin. All thanks to Pastor Jim. But not in Latin anymore and there aren't papers that need to be translated in that language, so that ability of his wasn't needed. Even so, it still helped him with some of the terms he now had to work with.

His phone went off, the sound too loud in the quietness of the room. Sam sat up straight; Spanish notes left aside as he glanced at the pile of papers he was sure he had left his phone on. It wasn't there.

Sighing, he took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose, slowly letting his fingers massage his tired eyes as he concentrated on the sound. It came from his left. That he was able to get easily enough. However, as he was a Winchester and thus possessor of the well-known Winchester's 'luck', when he started searching for the phone, the sound stopped. He still looked for it though, choosing to open the curtains as the dim light of the lamp beside his desk didn't help him in his search.

Sunlight poured through the window and Sam squinted into the surprising brightness. He hadn't considered it could be past six, but the too bright sky seemed to tell a different story.

Well, at least it's not too late, Sam thought as he started opening his drawers, a soft, tired sigh escaping past his lips. By the time he found his phone under a book, it had started ringing again. Jess's name was on the screen.

"You forgot where you put your phone again, right?" she said immediately after he answered.

"Of course not, I always put it on my desk—"

"'—Next to me so it's always close'," she said in a mocking imitation of his voice. "Yes, I know. And I'm sure there must be a lot of books and paper littering the desk as well."

"Just some. I'm the one the firm charged to look into the archives, after all," Sam yawned. "Our team hasn't found anything on The Rack yet. Well, at least nothing big enough to give us some more time. If we don't find anything our client will have to sign the agreement Crowley settled on behalf of our client."

"I get is not a nice agreement then?"

"Let's just say our client will have to pay for the 'troubles' he caused to the company. When it should happen the contrary."

"So you're busy I get? I'm sorry for calling this early then, Sam."

"No, no. I should be thanking you for calling. I forgot to set my alarm again and would have lost track of time if it wasn't for you."

There was a relieved sigh on the other end. "Well, you're a lucky guy then." She chuckled softly. "Though one usually sets an alarm to wake up not, to let you know that it's already early. But well, the case sounds difficult."

"It is. Crowley's the worst. And so you know, I did set my alarm to go off in an hour or so. I still need to do some errands, after all."

"Errands? But are you home now, right? Because I'm outside."

As if on cue, he heard the front door opening.

Crap. Sam looked at his phone for the date. It was Saturday. Jess almost always came on Saturdays.

"Uh, yeah. I'm here."

Sam got up from the chair and left the office, headed towards the living room. Jess waved the phone at him. "We can stop talking using these then, right?"

Sam took the phone away from his cheek and Jess walked forward to give him a kiss in greeting, replacing the chill of the glass phone screen with the touch of her lips.. She then let herself into his room where there still was some of her things in a bag under his bed, her hands moving fluidly to take her long earrings off. She put them next to the jewelry box and Sam almost had a heart attack. He was lucky she didn't open the box and instead knelt next to his bed. But he knew her routine. After all, his apartment was near the place she worked and sometimes she used it when she needed to change her clothes quickly.

He knew she would put the bag out from under his bed, go to the bathroom for a quick shower and then come out wearing her scrubs before moving around the apartment to gather some of the other things she need because, aside from the bag and some other feminine necessities in his bathroom, there were also other things that belonged to her scattered in his apartment. Like the jewelry box where he had stashed the necklace.

The one he knew she would visit last to take some small earrings from it.

"Okay, so there's a problem," Sam started, waving a hand at the box. Jess hummed to prove him she was listening even if her attention was on her hand as it moved under the bed. "Well, the thing is… Uh, there's a— a spider. Yes, that. There's a really big spider inside your jewelry box." It was a lame excuse and he knew it. By the look Jess threw him she thought that, too. "So… I think you shouldn't open it?"

"A spider?" she was giving him the chance to think in something better, he knew. Sam didn't bulge though.

"Yeah, I found it yesterday? I wanted to move it outside but I was too busy and…" He sighed then, and the action sounded almost believable to his ears. He sometimes was glad that he took that improvisation class back in college because it actually helped to his career. It didn't seem to be working now, though. "I put it there because I didn't want to step on it."

. She headed towards it and Sam tensed for a second, thinking she was going to grab it. She didn't though. Sam almost sighed in relief when he noticed she was reaching for her brush instead.

He forced himself to relax when she smiled at him, clearly aware of what her action had caused. Sam answered with a smile of his own. He knew they had broke up a long time ago and that it was weird that some of her things were still scattered around his apartment but he felt lucky they've ended on the good terms they did. Jess had been one of his best friends before they were a couple — he didn't know what would have he done if he didn't have her to talk with.

"I'll take it outside after changing then, you don't have to worry, big boy."

That made Sam blink. He moved towards the box before Jess had the chance to go near it again. "Don't worry about it, you go and take a shower. I'm going to deal with this."

She gave him a curious, amused look, her clean clothes under her arm. Eventually, Jess nodded and left for the bathroom, shaking her head as she did.

Sam opened the box the moment the bathroom door clicked shut behind her. The necklace glinted as soon as he opened it but—thankfully—no blond man appeared when he did. He glanced around. He didn't know where to put it anymore. Jess was observant and Sam didn't want to hide it somewhere he was sure it was going to end up forgotten.

He was still mostly convinced last night had been a fatigue-driven hallucination and this was just him being paranoid.

But a glance toward the table with the weird looking glass from yesterday told him it was pretty much real.

He swallowed and with a determined grip, he picked up the necklace and put it on, letting it fall on top of his shirt. He looked at himself on the reflection of the window in his living room. The necklace was very similar to the one he once gave Dean. When he saw it, it kind of reminded him of the days they were young and played together, ran around the house, racing each other to reach some predetermined finish line. Dean was always at the head, though when they were only a few feet from their goal, he would stop running with all he had and start jogging instead— just long enough to give Sam the opportunity to win. It only made Sam want to train harder so he could beat him fair and square .

Sam stared at the street outside his window. It had been a while since he had jogged. Even now it wasn't as though he would ever win against Dean, but he actually just liked to jog.

He stroked the necklace with his thumb. The texture of it against his skin reminded him why he had bought it in the first place.

"You took the spider out?" Jess asked from the bathroom and Sam tilted his head towards that direction.

"Yeah," he answered quietly, placing the pendant under his shirt, being careful when touching it.

\- x -

He was planning to go back to the store where he had bought the necklace and perhaps just leave it there for the owner to deal with, maybe even ask for a refund –though he wasn't too interested in that option— but he couldn't. Not from lack of want but more because he was still new at the law firm as the junior associate he was and he had little time to spend in chores like that. It had amazed him he had the time to actually go to his brother's that day let alone finding that store and venturing inside to buy the necklace.

So without time to spare, Sam found himself forgetting about what had happened. He put the weird looking glass in the corner of his kitchen counter and didn't look at it again. He started to jog again in an attempt to not let the stress overwhelm him and concentrated on his work. He continued with his life and eventually, he even got used to the weight of the necklace against his chest. Even so, Sam still kept looking at the necklace with what he thought was the right amount of wariness every morning when he changed clothes before starting his busy routine. Perhaps he had a little more curiosity than he should.

His brother always said that he was too curious for his own good and maybe he was right because now, when he rested his eyes from the screen of his laptop and looked through the window, he wondered if there were things that might be hidden between the bushes of the small park in front of his apartment. He found himself with the same sensation the man from the MIB movie must have felt after realizing aliens existed. He also tried to look intently at his surroundings in an attempt to catch a glimpse of something else. Everything felt new because, if what happened that day was real and it wasn't another consequence from sleep deprivation then, then what other things might exist out there?

Sam often found himself glancing down at the necklace when similar thoughts invaded him.

He started spending some time just observing the world around him, eyes trailing longer than necessary in what could be a hint of the new world he had saw. Sam began to notice the little things. The sound of leaves rustling as the wind blew through the trees when he walked towards his classes. The way light reflected on the water droplets as his neighbor watered her flowers in the mornings, small rainbows forming on those drops the plants didn't completely soak, making the colors turn into something more rich and bright.

He also felt the freshness in the air every morning when he jogged, the smell of dusty earth and humid, cold wind as it brushed against his face. And he didn't know how to explain but that's how—after almost a week since the incident he still hoped was just a dream—he hadn't got rid of the necklace yet. It seemed to make everything look more special just because of the infinite possibilities it brought.

Sam really wanted to talk with that man again. He looked forward to satiate the curiosity growing in him. He thought a lot about the conversations they could have, even dreamt about it once. More times than he liked to admit, he found himself wanting to grab some piece of cloth and clean the pendant. He always stopped himself though. The desire to do so was big but he didn't know if he was ready to open his world like that. He was afraid.

\- x -

"Please tell me those aren't for me?"

Meg placed a new stack of documents on his small desk. "Oh my, you're going to make me think that you don't love my presents anymore."

"Well, your presents tend to be tiring, so don't blame me," Sam sighed as he looked through the papers. "Though I'm a bit surprised you're this late. You usually leave early."

"Yeah, well, I had to bring this to you," she crossed her arms over her chest. "And now I'm one of the last people leaving."

"Anyone could have given me documents," Sam said, grabbing the paper on top of the others. It was from a bank account. His eyes widened as looked at the others and realized some of them held similar information, others were about old cases The Rack, the name of the company they were going against, had under his belt. His gaze slowly went from what it was most likely some impossible information for them to have to Meg's eyes. "This is..."

"Some information I have gotten hold of. Your new work."

Sam raised an eyebrow after the initial stupor passed. "You mean you got Ash to help you with the case?"

"I'm not Ellen; he's not my paralegal. I admit the guy's good, but I've my ways too, you know? I'm not senior partner for nothing." Huffing, she held up a hand at him. "I'm here for the other research about our client, too." A soft, mocking sigh left her lips as she continued, "I'm doing all the work here and you're supposed to be my associate. It doesn't look like it."

Sam scratched the back of his neck as he searched for the files and gave them to Meg. He then pointed the new pile he had now with a finger, "What do you want me to find here?"

She smirked in a way that made Sam wary. "I don't know, you tell me. I'm sure you'll find something. Just make sure to do it quickly."

Sam ran a hand over his face, the motion was tired and he could feel the questioning glance Meg threw him from where she was leaning.

"Don't stay too late today, though. Rest or something; I don't want you to mess up this case. The boss would be on me since I gave you that position, after all."

Sam smiled. Even if his first job in the firm for now was mostly fact-checking and research, it still was against Crowley, the top lawyer of The Rack and one who had gained the title of the king of the crossroads for his ability to make deals with anyone, it was really a good offer to be working on this team now. The experience he was gaining and will continue to gain will be worth it even if he barely had time to spare. "I really appreciate this, you know. Thanks," he said, and really meant it. This was a big case.

"Don't mention it."

Meg raised an eyebrow when Sam only smiled at her.

"I mean it," he insisted.

Sam laughed when Meg rolled her eyes as she turned and walked away. "Don't be the last one here, moose."

\- x -

He was the last one in the end.

Well, okay, not the last one, per se. The security was there, too.

Sam should get a life outside the archives room. Papers were spread around him and his back hurt like Hell—every time he sat straight something popped between his shoulder blades. His body felt heavy, ready to fall asleep, and the coffee wasn't helping anymore. He wanted to go home but he really wanted to finish this as soon as possible even if he had to read boring old cases about previous cases The Rack had won and lost. Because it did count as lost if you had to pay a great sum of money to other small companies to shut their mouth, right?

Yawning, Sam took off his glasses before rubbing his face. He leaned back on the chair and his back didn't make any sound; instead, it formed into a knot that sent tension all through his shoulders. Sam groaned in pain and stretched his upper body as much as he could until a pop sounded. A pleased, tired sigh escaped him.

"Fuck, what I would give for a massage," he said as he dropped his arms to his sides, not really hoping for anything, just wanting to whine to the air. But then there were hands on his shoulders and Sam stiffened, his head turning slowly to look behind him.

The weird man was there again and all Sam could think was, It wasn't a dream.

"Shall I give you a massage, master?"

Sam jumped from his seat so fast one of his hands caught on one of the numerous bracelets the man wore. "Crap," he said as he stumbled with the table, breaking the bracelet with the force of the pull and making his coffee mug clatter onto the floor. Pieces of the bracelet scattered over the floor and lay floating in the dark liquid. Sam cursed his long limbs. Sometimes he had the grace of a ballerina (Dean's words, not his); others, he wondered how he was able to walk.

He threw a glance to the stranger who was now kneeling, eyes on the floor. Not looking at his jewelry in the puddle of the spilled coffee.

"If my master wishes, I will—"

"I'm sorry," Sam blurted, also kneeling next to him. He tried to collect the pieces but a knock on the door startled him. His head turned towards it.

"Sir, is everything okay?" a man asked. Sam's eyes returned to the stranger whose gaze hadn't left the floor.

"Crap." Freaking out, Sam stood up, glanced once to the man. "You need to disappear," he said more to himself, but the man blinked up at him and Sam saw in his eyes that he was ready to obey.

"Wait, no! I want to talk to you!" Sam took a quick glance at his surroundings, searching for a good place to hide. "Maybe I can hide you behind the desk and then we can go to my apartment if we leave for the back of—"

"Sir?"

Sam ran towards the door after hearing the sound of keys. His brain was already searching for some excuse to give, but there was a familiar sound of ruffled papers and his step faltered as he looked over his shoulder only to find the man already gone. Trying not to look disappointed, Sam put on his best charming smile and opened the door to face the security guards .


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

When Sam finally got home, he found the blond man in front of his door, waiting in the same kneeling position he remembered from before. It looked uncomfortable and painful but it didn't seem to bother him as he waited. Actually, he looked kind of otherworldly in that position; unmovable and as if nothing could shake him off of that spot if he didn't want to move. And Sam couldn't help it, he looked at him for long seconds. After all, he'd spend almost twenty minutes trying to reassure the security guards into leaving before going back to his work and waste two hours trying to get his brain working so he could do research. He was feeling exhausted. So now he didn't know what to do with the being in front of him.

After the man disappeared, he was ready to return to an empty place, slightly sad because he had many questions he wanted to ask, so many questions he wanted to know the answer of but refrained from asking—Actually, no. He didn't think he'd have the valor to ask. The uncertainty, the fear of having his world shattered if he ever gained the resolution to hear what the other had to say… it was too much. He didn't want to believe that the stranger had actually appeared from inside the necklace he was wearing but it was true that it was the only option he could think of. And that was why now — now that he was in front of him, Sam was nervous. Watching the man refusing to meet his eyes, in a position that was more than ready to receive punishment… Well, it made him feel slightly self-conscious.

Did he look like the kind that would injure another? Sam was tall, sure, but he had always tried to make sure it didn't make him look intimidating to others. And he thought he did a good job at it, or at least he had thought so until now.

Sam's fist clenched nervously around the pieces of the bracelet he rescued from the coffee before taking a deep breath. The phrase, _What do you want from me_ , was on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't want to make the man in front of him to see him in a worse light. He cleared his throat to make his voice softer and what came out when he opened his mouth was, "Are you human?"

It came out slightly blunt but Sam couldn't help his curiosity.

The man didn't seem to like the question as his courteous smile turned into a tight line. When he answered, there was certain disgust in his tone. "I am most certainly not a human," he said. The almost sneer surprised Sam, but the man recovered quickly, politeness returning to his features. "What I am is not of importance, master. All that matters is what I can provide you."

Suddenly nervous, Sam scratched the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to offend you by that human comment, really." He took his hand away from his neck and glanced at it for a moment before extending it towards the other. "I should've done this a while ago, but—Hi, I'm Sam Winchester."

"I am already aware of my master's name."

When no other movement or sound came from the man, Sam frowned. "Could you please look at me while we're talking? It creeps me out that you're in that position. Please."

The man blinked before slowly looking up, their eyes meeting for the first time. The intensity of his gaze made a shiver that was all survival instinct scream _'Run'_ as something like fear wanted to take over his body. If Sam had thought before that the man was a human, his gaze obliterated that presumption. His eyes didn't look human at all. Too ancient. Too alien and all-knowing. Sam felt like an ant ready to be stepped on and the funny part was that he was standing, towering over the still-kneeling man.

"Is it better this way, master?" the stranger said with obvious sarcasm, seemingly completely aware of the emotions he had caused.

Sam swallowed the lump in his throat, steeling his resolve. The smirk on the blond's faded when he saw the hand still extended in his direction for him to shake. The man tilted his head, looking in deep thought as if he didn't seem to know why his hand was so close to him. Sam tried to smile when the blond's eyes lit in understanding. With hesitation, he followed Sam's actions and aligned his palm against his, pressing them together. It was weird so Sam tried to adjust their grip so they could shake their hands normally. Sam then pulled him up, squeezing once before letting his hand go.

"Let's sit on the couch, okay?"

The man hummed softly, still looking down at his hand before replying with an "As my master wishes."

When it seemed that he was going to wait until Sam walked first inside, Sam complied, sighing as he went towards the living room, the man following close behind. There, the stranger chose the smallest armchair, big enough for only one to fit, but instead of sitting on the soft cushions, he chose the empty space of floor in front of it. Luckily this time he didn't kneel, choosing to cross his legs, both hands resting on his lap. It made him look oddly innocent. That is, if you didn't count the intense eyes and the deadly air that surrounded him and made one feel like prey.

Sam looked down at the bracelet in his hand; guilt engulfed him as he saw the small shining gems glinting next to the gold of the chain. "I think I found all the pieces. I have friend who can help me fix it so don't worry about it."

Tilting his head, the man leaned slightly forward, enough for him to see the pieces of his bracelet on Sam's hand. His eyes went from his palm to Sam's eyes, not understanding.

"It was my fault it broke," Sam explained. "Well, okay, no. It was kind of yours for startling me, but yeah, also my fault. It seems… really expensive."

He didn't answer him, uncertainty and wariness clear in his eyes.

Sam placed the pieces on the small table between them, not sure how to continue if the other didn't at least try to participate in the conversation. "You haven't told me your name yet."

The man's eyes instantly grew alert but he blinked once and then the expression was gone, replaced by a calm and composed one instead. "My name is whatever my master chooses."

"That can't be right. You must have your own name... right?"

"Yes," he answered but didn't add anything else. Sam sighed.

"Can you at least tell me what are you?"

"I am the one bound to the necklace you now wear. You are the one that paid respect to—"

"Respect? You mean when I cleaned it with that cloth?"

The man went silent. Sam noticed the annoyance in his faint scowl.

"Yes," he replied. "Now I am here to grant you anything you desire."

Sam blinked. It was pulling at a straw, something too fantastical and irrational to be true, but the puzzle was forming, and he could see it. Slowly and slightly faint, yes, but still _there_.

"Wait. Are you… Are you a genie?" The man looked blankly at him. "You know, those beings that grant wishes?"

The man hummed. "It would not surprise me if you humans came with a name. So then, yes, I think that might the current human term for what I am."

A genie. A genie was sitting in front of him as had just told him he would grant any wish. That was too much for Sam's exhausted brain. He needed to backpedal right the fuck now. He couldn't believe the confirmation he just heard, it was too fantastical. Though there have been hints. Right? His brain was still processing the information, trying to find the head and tails. He had expected magic, of course. It had took him a while but he was willing to consider the existence of magic. But this? He wasn't prepared for this. It didn't sound feasible at all.

Sam shook his head. Not yet. There must be something else he wasn't seeing. He needed all the information to be able to reach some conclusion, but for now, he'd go with it. The man in front of him was a genie. So what if he hadn't came out from a lamp? Apparently, necklaces were what was _in_ for genies and that's what he had now. Sam wanted to scoff at how bizarre this whole situation was.

He needed to focus and work with what he had. It was probably a good thing he had always been someone pretty quick at adapting in odd situations. And the current situation was leaving him with three wishes for himself... Or maybe not.

"So I've got three wishes like in Aladdin?" he asked cautiously, expecting the other to correct or fill more information.

"I do not have any information about who this Aladdin is."

Oh, right. Sam scratched the back of his head. "It's a movie. I don't remember much but there was a genie there like you that helped the main protagonist, Aladdin. The genie gave him only three wishes and there were certain rules for the wishes. Like, you couldn't wish for someone to fall in love. Or resurrect the dead. There were others, too, I think."

"There is not another 'genie' that I am aware of," the man said, a faint scowl forming between his brows. "There is no other with the same burden."

 _Well_ , Sam thought, _then he must have been the origin of the myth_. "And about the three wishes? Are they true or it was just a part of the movie?"

"A lie, too. You only get one wish from me and only one rule applies."

Sam perked up. One wish. Even if he didn't believe it yet, he still had one wish. He needed to be cautious though. "What rule?"

"I choose if I want to fulfill said wish," the apparent genie said, and there was something strained in the curl of his lips. Something dark and sad.

"… So I can ask whatever I want but if you don't want to carry out my wish then I'll have to change it?"

The being in front of him gave him a sharp smirk that made his white teeth glint, smugness pouring out of it. "Yes."

"Huh."

There was already a wish on the tip of his tongue that he wanted to let out. He opened his mouth, ready to say it. But then he stopped, closing his mouth, as he asked instead, "And after I ask my wish? What happens to you? Do you return to the necklace?"

The man held his chin a little higher even if he seemed slightly taken aback by the question. "Yes," he answered, "until another human pays its respect to the necklace and I am bound to them instead."

Sam placed both elbows on his thighs, using his hands as a support for his head. He had a wish, but it didn't seem fair. He didn't remember exactly the words the genie said in Aladdin but recalled that he was unhappy living inside the lamp.

One wish.

The picture of a chair came into mind, but...

He looked at the man in front of him. How long had he been inside that collar? Was Sam capable of confining another being? But what if this being in front of him was dangerous? What if by opening the metaphorical Pandora's box by freeing him he condemned the world? The genie in Aladdin was good and just wanted to be free to enjoy everything, but what about this one?

"Why do you doubt, master? You already have a wish you want to ask, so ask me."

Sam swallowed before he laughed nervously, trying to lighten the mood. "Why are you calling me 'master'? It's only one wish, right? You don't need to call me master for that."

The man's jaw twitched and Sam knew he had made a mistake. Even as subdued as he tried to look, the man didn't like not being taken seriously.

"Yes, I have. You are my master. I am bound to you and I shall serve your commands until your wish is fulfilled."

Sam leaned back in the chair, startled and horrified. Yeah, he had made a mistake. "That's… That's just awful. Some wouldn't want to ask a wish that way. There must be people that—"

"Yes, human beings sometimes do not need a wish; sometimes they just need someone under their command to serve them. Someone who has the strength and will never grow tired."

"How can people like that exis—?" He stopped. He knew people like that existed. He hadn't worked in a law firm for long but he had already seen what people would do to get ahead. He had chosen his career to push back against this, after all.

Still.

Sam glanced away. "It's not fair."

The man stood up, walking around the small table to kneel before him, and this time he didn't look away from him. Sam tensed but before he could say anything, the man spoke. This time his smile was less sharp and slightly hopeful. "You can ask me your wish and be done with this if you want, master. I know you have one. If you do not wish to repeat the actions of my previous masters then let me return to my prison."

Sam was afraid of him. Of those eyes and tense jaw. Something told him that if he let that being free, humanity would end, but he couldn't just—He couldn't.

"I'm not sure what to ask," he forced past his lips. And the man knew he was lying. His face closed, became stone, his stillness making him look like a statue. But then he closed his eyes and bowed his head.

"Then I shall wait until you have a wish for me to grant. But until that time comes, I will serve you. I will only exist to fulfill your desires and carry out your will without tiring or dying. I will only obey your word, my master."

He then vanished.

* * *

"This must have cost a fortune," Jess whispered almost reverently, finally leaving the loupe on the table and looking up after having watched the bracelet in her hands for five solid minutes. She turned the jewelry around with a delicacy only her slender fingers were capable of. "The detail and composition… I'm pretty sure this is the real deal."

Sam sighed. He glanced at the small brushes and the polishing cloth she had lend him a while ago next to some other things to clean the bracelet better, all scattered on the table. "Yeah, I figured. I need to fix it; that's why I called you."

Jess threw him a look, catching the guilt in his voice. "You _need_ to? I don't recall you wearing jewelry, Sam."

"No, no. Don't worry," Sam blurted quickly, knowing well how her mind worked and how protective Jess was. "It belongs to a friend."

She whistled softly. "Your friend must have a lot of money. This is antique."

Unconsciously, Sam's hand went towards the necklace under his shirt. Should he tell Jess? He shook his head and stood up, grabbing the plates from the table and ordering them into a stack before taking them to the kitchen. Jess followed him and quickly took the plates from his hands.

"Hey," Jess complained, "you're supposed to be the guest. Now, go and sit somewhere."

"You're just going to use the dishwater. I don't know why you get upset."

Jess stuck her tongue out at Sam and he couldn't help but chuckle. "So do you think you can help me?"

"Yeah, don't worry. I have a friend who works in a jewelry store and owes me a favor. I'll take it to him."

Sam felt a small weight leave his shoulders. "Have I mentioned how incredible you are?"

"Not lately, but you're welcome to do it more often. Anyway, what's with you? You've had your head in the clouds lately; I was worried you were smoking weed or something. And now, well, you don't seem… I don't know, as vibrant anymore. Have you been sleeping, or are you pulling all-nighters again?"

The stack of papers waiting for him on his desk wasn't appealing at all, but he had already worked on a schedule that would let him work _and_ get some free time. Now he had some to spare so he took advantage. But he had to admit that he had already spent a few hours more than he was supposed at Jess's so he'd have to get to bed late today. Not that he'd tell her that, of course.

"Hey, can you lend me that loupe you have to inspect jewelry?"

"Do you have more that you haven't told me about?" She raised an eyebrow. Sam was ready to create another excuse but her expression melted into one full of mischief. She snorted. "Don't worry, Sam. Here, take it. Just be careful with it."

"Thanks, Jess."

* * *

The necklace looked normal. Or as normal as any other piece of jewelry he had seen. He had been using the loupe Jess gave him to inspect the pendant more closely for already quite some time. After cleaning it with that cloth the first day, the brightness of it had increased, making it easier to notice anomalies. But there was none to be found. Sam turned it around. He should have asked Jess more about how to inspect jewelry, but he probably expected something more visible that showed what made it special.

Did he really expect to see magic surrounding it?

Well, it wasn't as if there was something magical about his first encounter with the jewelry, actually. It wasn't a pull or some kind of energy that pulled him towards that necklace. There wasn't any magic, spark in the air, or an ' _it must be mine_ ' thought invading him that compelled him to buy it. He just saw it, thought about the similarities it had with the one he had given Dean when they were kids, and bought it. Easy and normal as any other previous purchase he had made before.

Maybe if his brother hadn't called him that morning, making him remember their old adventures, he wouldn't have bought it. Not even cast a second glance at it. Maybe if it hadn't looked so dirty under the light of his kitchen, he wouldn't have tried to clean it either.

"Though if I hadn't… who knows how long that genie would have been inside?" Sam sighed, putting aside his tools. "I wish I could learn more about this necklace."

Sam saw a bright glint appear in the pendant. His hand moved to touch it but there was a papers that stopped him.

"I will not grant you that wish."

Sam blinked at the sudden apparition standing in front of him. The genie was tall, just a couple inches shorter than him. "That—That wasn't the wish I wanted."

The genie hummed. "Then I would be more careful with my wording."

Sam thought about it. He had said the word ' _wish_ '. Was it only that one word that formalized his request into an official wish? If he said, "I wish to eat breakfast," would the genie take it as his wish? Sam had to be careful. He glanced down at the necklace in his hand. "Can you hear everything I say when I'm wearing this?"

The genie shook his head. "Only when I feel your desire for something I am able to open my prison enough to listen to the outside world"—he bowed, clearly preparing to leave—"But if my master has no need of me, then I shall return."

Sam felt the usual rip in the air that indicated the genie was going to disappear and he moved forward before really thinking about it. "Wait," Sam blurted out as soon as a he felt puff of wind against his face. The man hadn't moved and the sound of ruffled papers stopped. "If you want," he started again, not sure what to say. He rubbed the back of his neck and tried once more, "If you like you can be outside, too. You don't need to wait for me to call you."

The genie narrowed his eyes and didn't answer him. He disappeared soon after and Sam put the necklace around his neck once again.

* * *

Glancing once more at the food he had prepared, Sam nodded to himself. It had been a week since his last conversation with the genie and he hadn't seen him since. He probably would have tried to talk to him again before this but his schedule turned busy the last couple of days. He was lucky the judge gave his team more time after some new facts were discovered about , and that it was enough to warrant him some rest after doing all the necessary paperwork. Or, well, at least enough time to go out with some friends and buy some ingredients to cook dinner.

Sam sighed as he looked down at the necklace and poked it a few times, not knowing if it was going to work out what he wanted.

"Hey, can you get out?"

It did work. The genie appeared in front of him in a sound of ruffled papers. He sat at the table, not before bowing deeply at him, though. Sam's eye twitched. He thought he wouldn't see that pose after the last time. It seemed he wasn't that lucky. "Please stop doing that. It's really weird." He shook his head and signaled the food on the table. "I wanted to talk with you. I cooked some food for us to eat while—"

"Food is not necessary to me."

Sam blinked. Well, that was blunt. "So you don't eat?"

"It is not necessary for me."

"Oh." Sam looked down at the plates. "Perhaps I should have asked before cooking all this."

Now he was going to have to eat all of what he had prepared. Another glance at the table told him it was too much food to eat all by himself. Perhaps he could call some friends or simply fill his refrigerator. He'd have more free time to work if he didn't have to cook for week. Or maybe two. He might have gone a little overboard.

"What do you want to talk to me about?"

Sam narrowed his eyes, suspicious. The genie's demeanor seemed be different this time. He was now sitting at the small table, a bored expression on his face as he used a hand to prop up his chin.

"Please stop calling me 'master,' too. Sam is fine," Sam sighed as he started to pull some Tupperware from his counter. "You seem more... comfortable," he added, not quite sure if it was true even if the genie didn't kneel anymore.

"I am not. I merely realized that you are easily consumed by guilt."

"What do you mean?"

"That until the bracelet you broke is returned to me, you will not ask anything from me. Your guilt will not allow it."

Sam frowned. "You sound really sure of that."

The genie didn't physically stiffen, but the air around him did. It was weird and Sam wasn't sure how he noticed it, but before he could dwell more into it, the feeling was gone, the genie's gaze going from the food to Sam's face, an eyebrow raised.

"Okay," Sam continued, "maybe you're right. I do feel guilty. But even if I didn't, I don't think I'd be able to just order someone around. Delegate? Sure."

"You say that now, but you are young. Moralities are quick to change, even among the humans that call themselves good people. All of them can turn to evil given the proper circumstances."

"… You have a really weird view of humans."

The air suddenly felt too heavy to breathe and Sam felt a chill run along his spine at the smirk forming on the genie's face. He almost recoiled, but then he realized that the expression—a murderous one, more than capable of making others run away— wasn't directed at him. He tore his gaze momentarily from the genie but it didn't help to take the feeling away.

"I have known your kind for the longest time. One could say I even witnessed its birth."

"You're very old then," Sam said carefully, placing the new information about his supernatural tenant into his brain for him to think about later.

The intensity in the genie's eyes grew but he didn't say anything. His jaw was tightly shut.

"You know, you don't seem like someone who serves. It doesn't suit you," Sam said, not quite sure why he was voicing the thought that had bothered him for a while, but it was true. The man looked more as someone used to be obeyed. When he knelt and bowed, it felt unnatural, stiff. But in moments like this one, when he showed his power, it was as if something clicked in its place. It always disappeared too fast, there only long enough for Sam to catch a brief glimpse of the genie's true nature.

"It does not matter whether it suits me. It simply is how it is. Now, if my master does not need me, perhaps I should return to the necklace and wait for your orders?"

"You never came out, right?" Sam asked. The genie turned to look at him. "I told you that if you wanted you could come out. Why haven't you?"

The genie, if it was possible, looked more annoyed. "That was a suggestion, not an order. Suggestions do not matter. There are no loopholes with my imprisonment."

Sam felt sick but he swallowed it down. "So if I ordered you to come out whenever you like…?"

"Is that a suggestion, Sam?"

Pressing his lips into a thin line, Sam breathed through his nose. "No, it isn't. I order you to come out whenever you like." The genie's smile widened. "But you can't harm anyone," Sam added. "Or use your magic."

The genie huffed but seemed accepting.

Sam nodded, satisfied. "So, do you want me to show you my apartment?"

* * *

The next day, when Sam got home from work, he found the genie standing in front of his door, a hand held high to receive his bag while the smell of food was clear in the apartment.

After a long talk about what he was certainly not expected to do for him, Sam began to see the genie more often. He still came to greet him at the door with a bow but at least he no longer tried to carry Sam's bag. He had also started to wander from room to room aimlessly, seemingly content with only being able to walk. He also spent a long, long time in front of the TV when he realized Sam wasn't going to ask for anything, clearly confused by many things but within an alarmingly short span of time he began to learn and rapidly understand the nuances of human life _and_ popular culture.

The company was pleasant for someone who didn't have a lot of time to spare to be social, even if it came from a being who sometimes looked ready to destroy the world.

They didn't talk often, the genie was still clearly wary of him, but a few sentences of conversation were exchanged every once in a while. It widened Sam's social abilities as well since he usually only went to eat lunch with his co-workers; mostly Meg, though sometimes Ash, Ellen's paralegal. He didn't have the common personality for the job but Sam couldn't deny he was damn good in what he did—The dude was a genius.

He also talked with Chuck, the landlord, every morning. Chuck always invited Sam to eat breakfast to ask for opinion of the book he was currently writing.

And that was how Sam found out that the genie also spent time outside. Apparently, there had been rumors of a man walking in weird-looking pants without a shirt and shoes, seemingly unfazed at the cold of November. Chuck had told him he heard it happened during the nights but that he hadn't believed it until he saw the blond man in the park as he went for groceries one morning.

Sam seriously didn't know what to think about it. He had told the genie he could come out of the necklace, and it hadn't been explicitly said to stay inside his apartment but the thought of him wandering around outside still made Sam nervous. But then, being restricted to the apartment, unable to walk outside, wouldn't that be the same sort of imprisonment? Same thing, different package.

Yeah, he should just let the genie be. Though Sam should lend or buy him some clothes so people would stop calling him the weird crazy man. He had asked him once about the clothes, as the man didn't possess the usual Asian features to be wearing them but he hadn't answered him and Sam hadn't pushed. But what about now? He didn't know if the genie's walks took him far from the apartment or if he preferred to stay close. Even if these streets were safe, there were others that weren't and Sam had told him previously he couldn't use his magic while being outside. He couldn't harm others, either. It turned him into an easy target.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Jess liked to think she was an open-minded person. She knew her thoughts occasionally derailed from that path but before they completely formed, she liked to cut it off. To re-affirm herself that the world was too big for her to impose her morals on others. Even so, there were times when she didn't even know what to think. Today was one of those days.

Steven, a good friend of hers who worked in a jewelry store, called her the night before to say that Sam's bracelet was finally fixed. She could stop at the store the next day any time to pick it up. She thought of calling Sam as soon as Steven ended the call, but she was tired from her night shift and giving Sam a nice surprise would be good for him. She could buy some food and make something. Sam often forgot to cook after all, preferring take out than home-cooked meals.

She was already planning what to cook as she changed into her pajamas, grateful that her day off had finally come. She could sleep late, go to Caro's for lunch, and maybe take a walk. Then she could go to Sam's apartment one or two hours before he returned from work to have time to cook. Everything sounded great in her head. She was more than ready to spend her free day with her friends.

When Jess arrived at Sam's the next day, however, she was not prepared for the man already sitting on the couch as though he lived there. The man with dirty blond hair looked oddly confident in his own skin even if he wasn't wearing a shirt though he _was_ wearing some strange looking pants Jess was sure she had seen before but couldn't remember the name. His eyes were on the book on his lap, clearly concentrated on his reading. For a second, Jess thought she got the wrong apartment, but that couldn't be. The key had worked, after all. She backed away slowly, trying to return outside to double check the apartment number, when the man finally looked up at her.

She froze, a shiver of fear attempted to overwhelm her senses but she snapped out of it when his eyes went to her hair a wistful expression crossing his features before he completely turned his face away, an annoyed scowl gracing his features.

"Who are you?" she asked, her tone curious. He wasn't a burglar, she was sure, too casual and familiar with his surroundings.

"Perhaps I should be the one to ask that question, hm?"

Jess frowned, she didn't like the way the man easily shrugged her off as unimportant. "I'm Sam's friend. What about you?"

The blond seemed to think about her question as he closed the book, his head tilting slightly to the side. That was when Jess noticed the bracelets around his wrists—beautiful material that shone even in the soft light that filtered in through the curtains. He was wearing more jewelry than just the bracelets, she noticed. There were bangles on one of his ankles, a long earring in his right ear with what looked like a white feather that fell on his bare shoulder, a golden collar adorning his neck, seeming a little too tight to be comfortable, and a long necklace that reached his sternum.

"Sam is my master," he finally answered with a lazy stretch of lips. He seemed calmer.

Jess felt heat creeping into her cheeks. There was only one way to take that statement and she didn't know what to do with that. Sure, Sam had mentioned he liked guys before, and they had tried some really kinky stuff while they were together, but that kind of thing had happened mostly because she was the one inciting them. Sam was really good in bed but he was pretty vanilla.

"Sam has mentioned that staring at people for long periods of time is considered quite rude and yet you are doing it."

Jess blinked, finally tearing her gaze away. She coughed uncomfortably. Sam wasn't here and she didn't know if the man knew they had been together before. It'd be weird if the ex suddenly appeared in his apartment using her own key, right? Or perhaps Sam had already told him about her…?

Well, only one way to know.

"Sorry barging in like that," she said extending a hand. "I'm Jess, Sam has probably told you about me."

The man's eyes were on the book once again. He didn't took her hand but he did raised his gaze to meet hers. "Your name is not familiar," he added before returning to the book.

"Oh. Okay then. What about you, what's your name?"

He didn't answer, simply turned a page from the book and didn't look up.

Jess put both hands on her hips, bag full of groceries moving with her. She didn't like this stranger's attitude, the way he didn't look at her for more than a moment, but she didn't let it affect her. More hands meant she was going to finish cooking earlier. She walked towards the man until she was standing in front of him. The man's gaze were cold when they locked eyes, but she shrugged off the warnings that screamed in her head. "So, John Doe, want to help me with something?"

* * *

Sam had seen the genie without a shirt since they've met (only a set of golden necklaces and that collar around his neck to cover him) and it had been clear that even if they were almost the same height, Sam was still broader in the shoulders. His shirt would probably be too big for the genie but it would probably still look normal enough. What he didn't think would fit him were his pants. The genie seemed to have broader hips—not that Sam had taken too much notice of the fact, but seeing a handsome man walking around half-naked was weird to get used to.

He got out of work a little late but thankfully not late enough for him to find the stores closed. Walmart was also relatively close. And cheap.

He had only seen the genie wearing those weird baggy pants with the scarlet cloth wrapped around his hips, so maybe pajamas would be both comfortable for him and would not make him stand out quite so much. A pairs of jeans just in case.

By the time he got home, Sam was anticipating seeing the genie in other clothes, wondering if he'd look less foreign, so it was understandable that he didn't bother checking the bowl next to the door where he threw his keys, failing to notice that Jess's spare was there, too.

"Hey," Sam started, "So Chuck told me that he has seen you walking aroun—"

He stopped. Jess was sitting at her table. Next to the genie, who luckily didn't bow, or kneel as soon as he saw Sam. His back was straight as a board, though, with his chin held high and shoulders set, making him look more like a king than the servant he pretended to be. His entire demeanor exuded regality and it fit him so well that Sam was starting to wonder if all the 'you're my master' stuff was only a joke. He couldn't picture this man serving anyone. His presence screamed elegance.

Sam blinked, finally noticing the plates of lasagna they were both eating. "What's going on…?" he asked, but as soon as the words left his mouth, the genie stood, as if remembering he was a servant, his posture dissolving and going back to what Sam had seen before. Sam wanted to stop him, to tell him that he didn't have to serve Sam's dinner but he was too dumbfounded to say anything.

Placing her fork down, Jess spoke, distracting him only slightly from the genie's actions. "We got tired of waiting, but there's some left. It's still warm, don't worry." Sam swallowed, finally tearing his eyes from the genie. Jess gave them a curious look. "John and I cooked."

"John?"

"Yeah, John Doe here." Jess pointed to the man who was laying the plate of lasagna in front of him. Sam sat after saying thanks, eating a forkful of the food just so he won't say anything too revealing. It tasted incredible. "He's a really good cook, lucky you," Jess continued. "But aren't you mean enough to leave him walking without a shirt? I tried to offer him one but he said he couldn't accept it. What kind of kinky stuff have you gotten into?"

Sam choked on his food. Jess was giving him the smile she wore whenever he did something that made her proud. "We aren't together," he blurted. Jess was standing up to clean her dishes but she still turned to raise an eyebrow at him. "We are... roommates for now."

"Didn't know you were looking for a roommate. Do you even have any space here for another person?"

Sam was at loss. It was true that the apartment only had two bedrooms. One was a lot smaller so he had turned it into an office and Jess knew it if her smile was something to go by. Sam looked up at the genie, desperation in his eyes. He only stared calmly back. Sam was lucky that Jess had turned back to the sink.

"The reason I am sharing rooms with Sam is simply because my previous space was too small for me to be comfortable. Sam offered me the chance to use his apartment and I accepted."

That wasn't far from the truth, actually. Just worded as something more realistic.

"Oh, that sounds like Sam…" Jess muttered, grabbing her jacket from the back of a chair and putting it on it, happy that she was getting some answers now that Sam was here. "What about the costume?"

The genie looked down at himself, clearly offended by her words. Jess giggled at his expression, pushing her hair out from the inside of her jacket.

"It was a bet," Sam said quickly before he had the chance to reply. "I forgot to tell him that the game was over."

"That's what all-nighters do for you, Sam. God, go and get something else for him to wear. It's cold."

"I am indifferent to the cold," the genie intoned, clearly unimpressed.

Jess gave him a weird look as she walked out of the kitchen. "You'll get sick eventually. Sam make sure to make him change."

"Uh, okay?"

"Well, I've to go now. You came too late and I've to work tomorrow. I'll see you another day, Sam."

Sam walked her to the door. She gave the genie a small wave and once Sam had his hand on the knob she pulled a small cloth bundle from the pocket of her jacket.

"Here's the bracelet. I think it looks better now than it must have before, if I say so myself." She gave Sam a quick kiss on his cheek and whispered, "We'll talk later and you'll tell me all about this."

A wink later, she was gone.

Entering the kitchen again, Sam saw the genie placing their dishes inside the dishwater. "I thought you couldn't eat."

"I think I used the words 'not necessary.' I still can eat but I choose not to. I don't need it to survive like humans."

"You say that but you're quite a little bit on the thin side." Sam could still make out the ribs under the genie's skin but at least he wasn't as pale as he had been when they met. In an unconscious action, he poked his side as he came to help him. Sam froze on his spot but when the genie didn't retaliate and merely glanced up at him with a raised eyebrow, he relaxed a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Chuck told me he saw you walking in the park. You're starting to create some rumors," Sam said after washing the dishes. The bag of clothes was still on the table. "Maybe you should wear something else to look a little less… exotic."

The genie glanced down at himself. "I'm not used to being around anyone but my master. I've forgotten the care you humans have for appearances. I do not care for the opinions of other humans, but perhaps..." the genie trailed off, his eyes following Sam's to the bag. "You found me clothes?"

"Yeah, that way cops won't arrest you if they see you outside," Sam chuckled, grabbing the bag and motioning to his bedroom where the other could change. The genie stiffened momentarily but he seemed to relax when Sam handed him the pajama pants. "I hope it's your size."

The genie looked at the pants with clear distaste. Sam's eyes went to fabric, not understanding. He had chosen them because they were white and had a pattern of small golden feathers. It reminded him of the earring the genie wore but now that he thought about it, the genie looked comfortable in what he was already wearing and had never shown signs of wanting to change his clothing. Sam really hadn't thought anything of the clothes until now but maybe it had some meaning behind?

"Or maybe you don't want to change your pants? You don't have to if you don't want to."

The genie looked at him for a moment, huffing at whatever thing he found in his expression. "I do not have any emotional attachment to the clothes that were given to me. I am not human. I barely understand your choice to wear clothes," he said, starting to take off the scarlet fabric wrapped around his waist. Sam took it from his hand when he was finished, relishing in the soft sensation of the texture against his skin. It felt like silk.

"The one that gave you this must have been very rich then" he muttered, lost in the intricate designs the cloth had, so much so that when the genie untied the laces of his current pants, Sam was already looking up to ask about the fabric. He was just in time to catch sight of the cloth hitting the floor beside their feet. Sam's eyes darted away in vain, a small lump forming in his throat, making it dry. He only returned his eyes to the other when he was sure the pajama pants were in place.

"Rich, I wouldn't know, the word powerful would fit him better. By your standards and the one of other beings. Though I do believe there was some kind of joke I couldn't grasp in his actions."

Sam didn't know how to answer to that. The genie had revealed more information he thought he would do. There was some sort of soft reminiscence in his eyes as he spoke. Sam wanted ask about what kind of joke would be in receiving gold and precious clothes but the genie was glancing at the other clothes he held.

"Uh, right. Well, I didn't know your taste in shirts so I didn't buy you anything. I'll give you this in the meantime." Sam pushed one of his smaller shirts towards him and watched as the man easily shrugged into it.

Sam pointed at his jewelry. "Do you want to take that off?"

The genie looked down at them. "I am aware that a display of gold often indicates a being's measure of power."

"I would take it as a no, then. Besides, it looks pretty, too."

A smile tugged at the corners of the genie's mouth and Sam felt oddly triumphant. "What about the collar?" he said, moving his hand to point to the gold band around his neck. The genie immediately recoiled, his hand shooting out to grab Sam's wrist tightly.

Sam couldn't help the groan of pain that escaped him. The sound seemed to snap the genie out of his fit of anger. He released Sam's wrist and knelt quickly, his head lower than he had seen before.

Sam rubbed his tender wrist as he observed the other man's reaction. "Hey," he started, "I'm not going to do anything. If you don't want the collar off, then it's okay. The one you mentioned before also gave it to you? Genie? Look up. Everything's fine."

"A leash," the genie said after finally meeting his eyes. "This, at my neck, is a leash. Not a collar."

Sam looked again at the gold leather around his neck. It looked soft, but it seemed to be wound too tightly around the skin. This close, it looked even painful. "Oh."

The genie's gaze dropped.

"Do you want to take it off?" he asked, just to be sure.

"Yes," came the late reply. "...But it is not my place. One of my older masters ordered me to not take it off."

Sam remembered his brief conversation about orders and how the necklace worked. "But I'm your current master, right?" Sam said, his hand palming gently at the genie's neck, cautious while touching. His eyes found his again and his pupils widened slightly. He nodded and Sam reached for the clasp, being careful as he began to unfasten it. "If you don't want it, I don't want it."

The leash loosened, giving away to burned, pelted skin; the red, uneven line contrasting the slightly pale skin.

Nodding to himself, he said, "Stay here." He stood up and went for the first aid kit he had in his bathroom. A couple of seconds later, he was pulling a cream out. He showed it to the genie. "This is supposed to make your skin feel better. It'll feel weird at first though."

The genie scowled, seemingly a step away from tell him it was fine, but he stopped, a considering look flashing in his eyes. A small sigh escaped his lips and he let Sam rub the cream into his skin. The genie didn't twitch or move away, he just looked at him as he worked, his own fingers moving slowly to his neck, hovering close but not touching, not tearing his gaze away until Sam was done.

"How much does it hurt now?"

"It never hurt. However, I don't doubt it will take a while to heal."

Now that Sam's hand wasn't near him, the genie's palm had moved so it was covering most of his neck— Sam deduced it was an attempt to hide the mark from view.

Taking hold of the scarlet fabric that once was tied on the genie's waist, Sam thinned it, enough to make it look like a scarf. "You could use this around your neck," Sam motioned the new scarf towards him. "It'll hide the burns until they're gone."

He looked at it in distaste, clearly fighting not to say yes so readily.

Sam sighed. "Come on, put the pride aside. I know you don't want to show the burns."

There was fire behind the genie's glare. It seemed the only thing that he was going to do to impose him, the servant mindset he had going on still clear on him, but Sam didn't let it affect him; he glared back with the same defiance. The only difference between their expressions was Sam's slight smile, but he couldn't repress it; he was glad that the genie was showing more emotions.

The genie eventually rolled his eyes. Sam took as a triumph seeing him taking the scarf from his hands and wrapping it around his neck. The contrast of the candid color of the fabric and the genie's icy blue eyes making him look cute even when there was only pure annoyance and frigid cold in his expression.

Covering his laugh with a cough, Sam took the repaired bracelet out of his pocket. "Jess was the one who knew where to take it and it's fixed now. I don't know if you still want to use it but it's fine."

"Thank you."

Looking up at his eyes in surprise, Sam swallowed, allowing an honest smile to form on his lips. "You're welcome."

They looked at each other for a while until Sam glanced down at the leash on the floor. "What do you want to do with it?"

The genie followed his gaze. "I'll think of something," he said before disappearing in a flutter of papers. When Sam looked down again, he found out that the leash was gone, too.

Four hours later, the genie finally returned. He didn't notice at first, it was night and Sam was in his office, so tired. He wanted nothing but to let his head fall against the cool surface of the wood. Even so, he noticed when the door opened, careful steps following the action. He looked slowly over his shoulder. The genie walked quietly and calmly, going for his library to choose a random book before disappearing into the living room, scarf loosely wrapped around his neck. Sam smiled before going back to his work.

* * *

 **A/N: Comments please?**


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